James Thurber: The 13 Clocks

Once upon a time, in a gloomy castle on a lonely hill, where there were thirteen clocks that wouldn’t go, there lived a cold, aggressive Duke, and his niece, the Princess Saralinda. She was warm in every wind and weather, but he was cold. His hands were as cold as his smile, and almost as cold as his heart. He wore gloves when he was asleep, and he wore gloves when he was awake, which made it difficult for him to pick up pins or coins or the kernels of nuts, or to tear the wings from nightingales.

“Half the places I have been to, never were. I make things up. Half the things I say cannot be found. When I was young I told a tale of buried gold, and men from leagues around dug in the woods. I dug myself.”